Wisteria
by Emerald Falcon
Summary: Wisteria  Ninth in Deadly Herb Series  Enough Said


**Wisteria**

Ninth in Deadly Herb Series

Written By: Emerald Falcon

Harry Potter/OMC

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I have no rights to Harry Potter nor do I make any money by writing these fic's.**

**Wisteria**

It was that day he decided to take a walk did his life change for the better. He didn't even know why he had decided to take the unmarked path through the parks woodland area. He just knew he had to walk and get away from his Uncle. Blood slowly dripped into his eye from the cut on his forehead and he growled wiping it away. He hated the so called 'lessons' from his Uncle, they always tended to hurt more than the last but hell he wasn't complaining after all it was his fault for making himself think he could keep Sirius's death from his relatives.

Kneeling at the small stream he washed off his face of the remaining blood along with the stains along his hands and arms as well before peeringdown into the waters reflection. His right eye was almost swollen shut because of the nasty cut above it. Probably happened when he had hit that table. Gingerly he touched his colouring jaw line before examining the random hand shaped bruises along his arms. Of course none of them where as bad as the foot print bruise along his spine. Now that one hurt.

Shaking his head he stared at the water, "What doesn't kill you just makes you stronger," he voice dulled and monotone.

Striking the water with his hand he stood and walked along the line of the water. It was then that he had heard that sound. A dying trumpeting call that sounded to be in such pain and distress he couldn't help but run to it. He hissed in pain as the sound led him through a large thorny area. He looked down when he felt his leg get sliced open by yet another fucking thorn and he was just about to just scream in frustration when he finally found the creature.

In the very centre of a rather thick thorny patch was a white feathered creature. Its long graceful neck stretched up toward the sky where it was already blackening with an oncoming storm. The long black and orange bill was opened and releasing that strained call over and over again. Harry slowly stepped closer and the animal didn't even seem to take notice of him and it was then that the wizard saw what distressed the beautiful thing so.

Its wings where completely entangled in the thorns and splashes of red stained the beautiful white feathers. The large breast of the animal had a large thorn thrust right into it where most of the blood dripped from. Harry placed a hand over his mouth and tried not to let the tears fall from his emerald eyes. Such a beautiful bird one that was the very symbol of purity was dying by the hand of thorns.

Walking further into the brambles he no longer felt the biting of the long thorns only felt the urge, no the NEED to continue foreword to that beautiful dying bird. Falling to his knees beside it he reached toward the feathers and slowly ran his fingers along the soft bloody neck.

The swans head turned and crystal blue eyes met green and the crying desperate cries stopped coming from its throat and the long neck arched foreword to lie across Harry's tanned shoulder. Biting back more tears the teen began to slowly remove the thorns about the wings and body not caring about how his own hands bled. Soon the beautiful creature was pressed up against his chest and he stood holding it to him.

Walking through the brambles once more he broke through on the other side only the feel of the softly breath creature in his arms made him continue on beyond that. It was like he knew where he had to go. He could feel the bird blood dripping onto his foot now and again and yet he could not find it in himself to even move the bird into a different position.

Slowly the rough dirt and leaves beneath his feet turned into a soft green moss and the hibernating trees turned into a lush forest alive with nature. He came to a stop at a tall arch made of two trees covered from root to the connecting branches with Wisteria. The small clumped purple blooms filled the air with a perfume of calm and beauty. He laid the swan gently beneath the arch before lying down beside it. His hand resting on the tip of its wing.

Whatever storm that had been brewing had ceased to exist and the moon shone brightly above. It was as if this section of the woods stood out separate from where he had originally been. A small gentle bugle pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked toward the swan who even now looked at him with those same blue eyes. That seemed to be so deep and powerful despite the birds dying body.

Finally he let the tears fall from his eyes and he shut them unable to even look into the eyes of such a beautiful creature. He couldn't watch such a creature die. He felt the bill touch his hand and his eyes shot open at the sharp bite he received. Even as his eyes opened the birds breast arched into the air as if it was convulsing with its last dying breath and Harry almost screamed in horror. He always had to be strong for others. But here in front of this dying bird he couldn't even muster the strength to stop crying. Why did he have to be the one to witness this?

The bird convulsed again its wings falling to either side as its neck craned itself toward the sky again and released its final song before falling to the moss covered ground. Harry let himself fall to all fours over the bird and he leaned down letting his lips touch the creatures cooling neck gently. Before falling to the side and letting himself cry the tears he had been holding in since his Godfathers death.

He didn't notice that as his eyes finally closed in sleep that the bird's body was glowing. Or how its chest began to rise and fall again with life. Or even how it began to grow in size and the feathers melted away into moon pale skin. Its long neck thickened and shrunk in length to a more human length and its once proud bill and crest of features melted into a smooth faced and long silvery blond hair. Petal pink lips parted as it drew in a long shaky breath of sleep.

The next morning dew began to collect on the petals of the wisteria and slowly it dripped onto the lips of the two sleeping teens beneath its great arch and two sets of eyes opened gazing into the other. It was as if the two where in sync when they both sat up and gripped their heavy sleep fogged heads and turned to look at each other once more.

It was Harry who first snapped out of the daze and began to back away looking around him. He couldn't see the swan instead all he saw was this strange blonde male. He began to examine the male closer. From his perfect skin and muscle structure to the tip of his pointed ears. To the soft white feathers of his wings. Wait…wings?

Harry frowned, "What are you? Who are you?"

The man tilted his head to the side and carefully crawled on all fours over to Harry whose back was firmly against the arch. His smooth palm pressed up against Harry's cheek and he leaned forward more till he could lay his head on Harry's shoulder pressing their chests together in a very clear message.

The teen's eyes grew wide as he stared down at the larger man that had so solidly declared who he was without even having to speak. The swan Harry had taken from the vines hadn't been a normal swan. He looked down at the silvery blonde hair and he wrapped his arms around the broad pale shoulders holding the creature to him.

His voice soft when he whispered in wonderment, "Veela"

The male pressed up against him further and Harry blushed in embarrassment when he found something very hard pressing along his inner thigh things slowly began to piece themselves together in his head. Everything from the dying swan in the thorns to the needing cries that it sung from its throat. To the now human form of the veela and the very hard pressing matter of the moment and it all clicked at once in his head and Harry could only stare down as the male looked up at him, "I'm yours?"

The man's petal pink lips spread into a smile and those deep crystal blue eyes stared up at him with need and their lips met with clear understanding and acceptance. Heat pooled into Harry's stomach as the lips moved against his and his body was manoeuvred to lay on the moss beneath the Wisteria Arch. Pale hands removed the clothes slowly from the smaller males body revealing each and every inch of sun kissed skin beneath.

Lips to flesh and pleasure built with every caress, stroke, rut and moan. It seemed like a haze of emotion was all that gripped the two even as the rest of the clothes where shed and fingers delved deep into the younger's heated passage. Moans and keens filled the air as the two bodies melded together in an ancient dance of love, pleasure, and finally…completion.

The last thing Harry heard as he slipped back to sleep was a name whispered by his mate, his love, his veela, "I am Felix, my mate."

The End.


End file.
